


my youth is yours

by sapphirestylan



Series: for him. [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mentions of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 18:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13687221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirestylan/pseuds/sapphirestylan
Summary: Niall and Harry are uni students who go down to visit Harry's family in southern California over spring break. They leave on a road trip in the middle of the desert, going as best friends and coming back a lot more.





	my youth is yours

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while listening to 'for him.' and 'YOUTH' by Troye Sivan, and those songs kind of inspired some of the stuff in this story.  
> Feel free to listen as you read! Anyways, I've worked super hard on this fic and I'm really proud of it!  
> IMPORTANT: some of this isn't addressed in the fic and it won't make a lot of sense without it:  
> Niall and Harry are uni students who live together in London, Harry is double-majoring in english and photography. They go down to visit Harry's family in the spring and end up visiting a place Harry needs to go to for his photography project.

\---------------------------------

The realization doesn’t come all at once. It trickles into his mind slowly, creeping into his conscious as they coast down the highway. Niall sits next to him, behind the wheel, humming along to whatever’s playing on the radio. The windows are down, the air warm, all golden sky shot through with pink as the sun lowers. Harry pulls at his t-shirt, sticky with sweat and his chest warm for a different reason as he gazes at his best friend. 

Only a few cars accompany them down the desert road, the bare expanse of reddish sand sitting uncomfortably with him. It’s strange- but Niall seems to enjoy it, and this was his idea, after all, to take this road trip- so he can’t really complain. 

“When exactly is this project due, anyways?” Niall asks, glancing at him. 

“It was due the day before we got out.” 

“Oh, okay. Wait- what?”

Harry smirks at his bewildered face. “I talked to the professor and he extended the date for me because I was going during spring break. We have to include some element of glass in it and most kids are just doing their stuff from home, so he congratulated me on the ‘extra mile’ I was going.” 

Niall laughs at that, the familiar sound ringing in his ears. “The extra mile. Bullshit.” 

“I mean, he’s not exactly wrong. We didn’t have to go, but we are.”

“No, it would be the extra mile if we flew all the way to California just for this, but we only came here to see your family.”

He just shrugs, staring out the window. “At least I’m his favorite now.” Niall laughs again, and Harry smiles- somewhat proud of himself for being able to elicit such a beautiful sound out of such a beautiful person. 

He ends up staring just a little too long at Niall, noting the little dimple that appears when he smiles and the way his eyes get all crinkly when he laughs hard enough. 

“Have I got something on my face or something?” 

“Huh?” Harry snaps out of his daze. 

Niall smirks, blue eyes glowing under the fading light. “You okay, H? You seem tired.” 

“Yeah,” The car passes over a bump in the road and Harry winces, still embarrassed at having been caught staring. “I am.” 

“You can sleep if you want,” Niall offers, glancing at him. “Don’t have to watch my driving. I promise I won’t crash.” He jokes, flashing him a smile that makes Harry’s insides weak. 

The thing is, he’s realized he likes Niall. A lot. It’s difficult to figure out why he hasn’t noticed it before, but. He likes his laugh, which can be a little too loud and too much for other people but it’s probably his favorite laugh in the world. He likes his eyes, which are a shade of blue he’s never seen before; he likes his smile and he likes his freckles and he has the sudden urge to reach out and trace them with his finger. 

But he can’t, because Niall likes _girls_ , not boys. 

Harry sighs heavily, mind fuzzy with sleep and _Niall_ as he leans his seat back all the way, folding his arms across chest and curling up as much as he can in the cramped space. Niall looks back at him once, the hint of a smile curving his mouth before he returns his attention to the road. “I’ll wake you up when we get there.” He says quietly, and Harry can barely get out a weak sound of agreement before he falls asleep. 

\---

When he wakes up, the sky is black. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, he can see the stars clearly- a sight that surprises him. After living out of London, where the only night lights come from the streets and the shiny buildings, it’s a shock to see the scattering of glowing stars in the sky. 

Niall is in the back of the car, rummaging through for something. Harry sits up straight, cracking his neck and stretching out his back before opening the car door. Dust blooms from underneath his feet as he hops out and yawns, tugging a hand through his hair. Niall slams the back closed and comes around the car to stand beside him, eyes coming to rest on him before flitting to the stars. 

“Beautiful, innit?” Niall says softly, and Harry follows his gaze before letting it slip back down to Niall. Under the moonlight, his bleached blonde hair glows a ghostly white, and his eyes shine silver. _Beautiful_. 

“Yeah,” Harry says, clearing his throat lightly. “It is.” Niall glances at him, returns his stare for a few seconds before blushing faintly and looking away. 

“Um, so I already checked in and got a room in the motel- they didn’t have any available with two beds, by the way. And your bags-” Niall pauses, reaching for the backpack set by his feet and handing it to Harry. “We’re all set, I guess.” Harry nods, and they walk towards the entrance. Only then do Niall’s words fully register in his head, heat prickling his skin. _They didn't have any available with two beds._

\---

The digital clock on the table glows in large red numbers. 10:38. Moonlight spills in through the open window, the sound of crickets and running water filling his ears as he scratches absentmindedly at his stomach. Niall is in the shower, having gone in after Harry, steam coming through the crack under the door. 

Harry reaches for the remote and switches the TV on. A Seinfeld rerun is playing; and Harry being too lazy to look for anything else to watch, he tosses the remote on the bed and tucks himself underneath the covers. On screen, Jerry is lecturing George about the soup man. 

Harry had never actually expected to end up here. Not in the middle of the California desert with the boy he liked a little too much for his own good. They were already planning to go down to LA for spring break because Harry wanted to visit his family, and Niall was dragged along because “we’ve been living together for three years and they really really want to meet you”. 

The road trip itself had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, but it worked out anyways because Niall was (surprisingly) up for it and Harry had a photography assignment that he may or may not have been putting off till the last minute. 

How Gemma had actually let them take her car continued to be a mystery, but Harry figured it was less of her lack of common sense and more her joking encouragement for him to hook up with Niall. But they’re here now, anyways. And Harry’s been able to take some brilliant photos on the way. The California desert ended up being beautiful in a different way than he was used to, with it’s red land and a sky bluer than he’d ever seen. 

Just then, the water shuts off and Niall walks around the corner of the short wall separating the bathroom from the bedroom, nothing but a loose towel wrapped around his waist and water droplets taking their time as they run down his chest. Harry averts his eyes instantly, because if he looks any longer he’s pretty sure he’ll be half hard. 

“You took a while,” Harry says, his voice rough from not talking for a while. Niall just shrugs, throwing him a glance as he bends down to shuffle through his bag and get his clothes. Harry finds himself staring at the ceiling- because fuck, Niall really needs to cover up more. 

“What’re you watching?”

Harry turns his gaze back to him, and then to the TV whose colors seem too bright for the dim room. “Seinfeld. You’ve never seen it?” Niall shakes his head, water droplets flying. He grabs for Harry’s towel on the chair and scoops up his clothes in the other hand before retreating back into the bathroom to put on a pair of pants. 

A long sigh leaves Harry’s chest as he switches the TV off and flops back down onto the bed. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and thinks about the way the muscles in Niall’s back moved when he bent down, or the way his normally pale skin looked deliciously pink from the heat. _He's way too far gone._

When he opens his eyes a second later, Niall is standing right next to him. “Fuck!” Harry swears, eyes wide, before frowning. “Jesus, Niall. Warn a lad.” 

“Move over.” Niall says simply, prodding at Harry’s side with a finger. 

“You can literally walk around to the other side and get in.” Harry points out, not budging an inch. 

“I could,” Niall replies, “But the bed on that side is cold.” After Harry still doesn’t move, Niall decides to use force to roll Harry over on his stomach so that there’s enough space for him to climb in. 

“Hey!” Harry protests. “I’m not a seat warmer, Niall. You can’t just steal my spot.” He grumbles, struggling to get comfortable on the other side of the bed. 

“Shut up, Harry,” Comes the muffled voice, followed by a contented sigh. “I’m the one who drove all day, I think I deserve this.” 

He can’t argue with that, because it’s true, so he lets out a halfhearted groan and rolls over onto his back. Niall leans over and switches the lamp off, submerging them in darkness. 

Harry shivers under the thin blanket as his eyes adjust to the darkness- it shouldn’t be this cold, considering what a sweat box the entire place was just a few hours ago. It’s probably something to do with the sand or trapping the sun’s heat or something like that. He can’t remember, can’t focus long enough to _try_ to remember. He’s exhausted from the trip and he wants to sleep but the room is too cold and Niall feels like he’s an ocean away. 

“Harry?” A near-silent whisper breaks the silence, so quiet the words could have been lost in the hum of the radiator. 

“Yeah?” Harry murmurs quickly, shifting on his side to face him. Niall stares back, barely visible in the dark. 

“Are you cold?” 

Harry nods his head. 

“C’mere then,” Niall says, and Harry is confused for a moment before he realizes what he means, rolling over so that his back is pressed flush to Niall’s front. He can feel his warmth, and then the cold tip of Niall’s nose against the back of his neck. 

“You okay with being the little spoon?” Niall asks groggily, his voice slurred with the nearness of sleep. Harry hums in agreement, a shiver racing up his spine as Niall throws an arm over his waist. 

And when he speaks, he can feel his lips moving against his skin. “G’night, Harry.” 

“Good night, Ni.” He whispers back, and then he finally relaxes into Niall’s arms and lets the pull of sleep take him. 

\---

“Harry, hold on a sec- pull over,” Niall says suddenly, face pale, and Harry jerks the wheel sharply to the right, sending them bumping into the dust just off the roadway. Niall opens the door before they even come to a stop, lurching out of the car and stumbling before bending over with his hands on his knees and promptly vomiting. 

Harry cringes inside the car, simultaneously trying to see if he’s okay and trying not to see whatever putrid mess came out of Niall’s stomach. 

After a few drawn out minutes, Niall shuffles back to the passenger side, holding a hand in front of his mouth. “Water.” He says roughly, holding his other hand out. Harry leans back instantly and grabs the nearest bottle to give him, brows knit together with worry. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” He asks, concern tinging his voice. 

“I’ll be fine, just give a minute, yeah?” Niall says weakly, taking a step back to pour water over his hands and wash his face. Harry slumps back in his seat, feeling more than a little helpless as Niall rinses his mouth out and spits in the sand again. They’ve only been driving for an hour or so, having checked out of the motel at around 11 in the morning. _It is kind of his fault_ , he realizes, _because this stupid road trip was his idea and it’s clearly too hot outside and Niall overheated and now he’s sick and-_

Niall opens the car door and hops back in, eyes fluttering shut as the cool air from the AC washes over him. “It’s really fucking hot.” He pants, throwing Harry a quick glance. 

“Yeah.” Harry swallows, staring down at his lap. “Look, Niall, I’m sorry. This thing was my idea and it was kind of dumb anyways and now you’re sick-”

“I’m fine, Harry,” Niall says, cutting him off. “It’s not your fault, alright? You needed to do it for your assignment and I agreed to come, and to be honest, I’m actually having fun.”

“You had fun throwing up on the side of the road?” 

“Shut up,” Niall rolls his eyes, a smirk lighting up his face. “My point is that it’s not your fault. And that I like spending time with you, even if it’s in the middle of the desert and it’s probably more than a 110 degrees outside.” 

_I like spending time with you._

Harry blames the red spreading across his cheeks on the heat and not because of what Niall just said. “I, uh- thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me, get us back on the road. I don’t want to leave here without seeing this bottle forest shit you’ve been raving about.” 

“I don’t rave! All I said was that it looks interesting and I could get some really cool shots of-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

Harry does as he’s told, though, and soon enough, they’re speeding down the highway again. The windows are all the way down and the AC is on full blast, the wind tugging at his hair. Some Eagles song is playing on the radio, and Niall, although still looking a bit pasty, is singing along loudly and playing the air guitar in his lap. 

\---

They end up sitting at a sticky table at a diner 30 minutes later, because they didn’t have any food in the car and Niall still looks like he’s five seconds away from puking out the window. The place looked as if was falling apart from the outside, with peeling paint and a flickering sign. The inside isn’t much of an improvement, but it’s cheap and they’re hungry, so they can get past the way the fries taste like mushy cardboard just this once. 

“Do you want any more?” Niall asks from across the booth, a half-eaten order of fries sitting between them. Harry shakes his head, but he’s distracted because the waitress who had taken their order is eyeing him from across the room. She’d been surprised by their accent and wanted to know quite a bit about why they were in California, and it’s possible she would have given him her number if Niall hadn’t interrupted. 

And she’s easy on the eyes, too, so Harry sets aside the queasy feeling in his stomach and puts on his best smile when he catches her staring. Maybe the smile was a little _too_ nice, because she takes it as an invitation to walk towards him. 

“Oh look,” Niall mutters under his breath as she makes her way over, “Blondie’s back.” 

“You don’t have to be so rude,” he reprimands, “It’s not her fault the food tastes like- oh, hi!” Harry cuts himself off quickly, glancing up to see the waitress (Taylor, her name tag says) standing at their table. 

“Do you need something more? Anything you want, on the house,” Taylor beams, her attention fixed only on Harry. The way she’s staring at him is a little disconcerting, if he’s being honest. “Oh, no- it’s no problem, don’t worry,” She says quickly when Harry’s eyes widen, clearly ready to refuse her offer, “It’s, um. We don’t get many people here anyways.” She says shyly, biting slightly on her lower lip and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. _She's not very subtle. At all._

“We don’t need anything, thanks.” Comes the sharp reply, only it’s not Harry- it’s Niall, who looks very clearly pissed off. His eyes are hard as he looks up at her, and then at Harry across the booth, his jaw tense. 

_What the fuck?_

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Taylor stammers, looking between the two of them rapidly, “I didn’t know you two were-” The unsaid word hangs in the air blatantly. _Together_. It makes Harry’s heart leap in his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” 

“You’re fine, don’t worry,” Harry reassures her, and she gives him a weak smile before promptly turning away and disappearing behind the counter, cheeks red. “What the fuck was that?” He demands, attention snapping back to Niall. 

“What was what?”

“Oh, come off it.” He rolls his eyes, folding his arms and slumping back against the seat. “You were so rude to her!”

“We didn’t want any more food, I was just telling her so.”

“Maybe I wanted more food!” 

“You think the food is shit, you said so yourself,” He says evenly, holding his gaze. 

“She was just doing her job, Niall, for fuck’s sake-”

“Flirting with you isn’t her job.” Niall snaps loudly.

That shuts him up instantly, leaving him speechless. Niall stares down at the table, arms crossed in a mirror image of Harry’s position. His heart is thumping loudly against his chest, blood rushing to his ears as he tries to figure out the boy sitting across from him. 

“Maybe she was flirting with me. So what? How does that affect you in any way?” He asks quietly, struggling to keep his tone calm. 

“It doesn’t,” Niall responds, glancing at him quickly and then away. “It doesn’t.” He repeats, softer this time- to himself. 

The realization crashes into Harry then, taking the breath from his lungs and leaving him stunned. A bewildered laugh comes out of his mouth. “You’re _jealous_.” 

Niall’s gaze snaps up to meet his, eyes wide and face drained of blood. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are,” Harry insists, leaning forward. “Why else would you-”

Suddenly, Niall pushes out of his seat and makes a beeline for the exit, knocking into the edges of tables in his haste. Harry freezes for a second before throwing down the bills he has in his wallet and chasing after him, calling his name. 

“Niall! Niall- wait!” 

Harry shoves open the door, stumbling out into the sweltering heat and using one hand to shade his eyes as he looks around frantically for Niall. 

_There_. 

He’s leaning against the car, his face blotchy and red and his hands in his hair. His chest is rising up and down rapidly- it’s clear he’s trying to control his breathing. 

“Niall!” Harry calls again, already walking towards him. Niall spares him a glance but doesn’t make any move to run again- there’s no point now, nowhere he can really go. 

“Don’t, Harry.” Niall forces out, his voice shaky. 

“Why do you look so scared?” It’s true, Niall looks terrified, and just the sight is enough to kick Harry’s heart into overdrive. “What’s going on, Ni, come on.” Harry pleads, taking Niall’s trembling hands into his on instinct. 

Niall opens his mouth after a minute. “Look- you were right, okay?” He breathes heavily, staring down at his feet, his eyes watery and mouth in a tight line. “You were- I was being an asshole because...because I was jealous.”

Harry lets out a long breath, feeling a sudden rush of bravery as he lets the words tumble out. ”Don’t worry, Niall. You don’t have to worry about me not...not feeling the same way because I do.” 

Niall inhales sharply, eyes widening. “You-” He stops abruptly, pulling his hands away. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, incredulous laughter spilling out of his mouth. “We both feel the same about each other. There’s nothing stopping us from-”

“Yes, there fucking is, Harry!” Niall shouts, cheeks red. “I can't like you, Harry. Not like that." 

"Why the hell not?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you? You're a boy, Harry. I'm a boy." 

Harry frowns, a strange feeling bubbling in his gut. "So?"

"I just can't!" Niall shouts, his voice cracking. "I- I can't be-"

"Like...what? Like me?" 

"Yeah," Niall takes a shuddering breath, "Like you." 

Harry lets go of his hands, taking a step back. "And what’s wrong with me?” He asks, voice rising, ears pink. “I'm, what, I'm somehow worse than you- than everyone else- because I like boys? Because I’m gay?" He asks numbly, feeling the blood drain from his face. He feels like throwing up, he feels sick to his core and he _hates_ it.

"No-" Niall takes a step forward, wincing when Harry takes a step back to match. "No, Harry, that's not what I meant-"

"Then what did you mean?" Harry blusters, face bright red. "Because I'm having a hard fucking time figuring out what you're trying to say to me, Niall." 

The parking lot is suddenly deathly quiet. Niall snaps his mouth shut, wrapping his arms around himself and staring down at the ground, which is spotted with his tears. "My parents." He whispers, voice raw. He clears his throat, speaking louder. "My family, they-" 

He cuts himself off, wiping his eyes with the palm of his hand and finally looking up at Harry. "They'll hate me." He chokes out, a shudder running through his body. "They'll hate me, Harry, _they'll hate me_ -" 

And then Harry finally gets it, he finally understands. So he closes the distance and hugs Niall tight, squeezing him hard and telling him it’ll be alright and rubbing his back while he cries into his shoulder because _God he’s been so damn_ selfish, _so_ awful _to him_. There he was, jumping to conclusions as-fucking-usual and making Niall feel worse when he was just _scared_. So, so scared, because this was new and confusing and everything he wasn’t supposed to be feeling. 

Guilt settles in the pit of his stomach, seeping into his bones, only making him hold the crying boy in his arms tighter- as if he can just put him back together like that, keep him from falling apart any longer. 

Moments stretch into minutes while Niall sobs, but he finally pushes away, unable to cry any longer. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to come across like that, and now I’ve probably ruined your trip-”

“No.” Harry says firmly, looking him in the eyes. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I was the one being an asshole, and you haven’t ruined our trip at all, okay?” 

Niall nods slowly, but the look in his eyes tells him he doesn’t really believe it. He takes a slow breath, squeezing his hands into fists for a second. “Can we just go now, then?” 

Harry agrees wholeheartedly. He really doesn’t like this place. “Do you wanna head back to Gemma’s place? It’ll only take maybe three hours, max.” 

“What? We haven’t even been to that place you wanted to go yet- for your photography project.”

“I know, but if you’re not feeling good I don’t want to make it any worse.” Than I already have, he wants to add, but decides against it. 

“No, we’re going. We didn’t come all this way for nothing,” Niall counters, his voice steadier than before. And Harry doesn’t want to argue about it, so he just nods and gets in the car. 

Niall doesn’t say a word the whole way there. He just sits with his head against the window, watching the trees flash by, a glazed look in his eyes. Which leaves Harry alone with his thoughts, and that’s. Unfortunate. 

Because his head is swimming with guilt and confusion and pain and most of all worry, for Niall, who doesn’t look like he’s going to be as okay as he says he is. 

\---

“We’re here.” Harry says, nudging Niall awake with his elbow. 

“Hmm?” 

“We’re here,” Harry repeats as Niall sits up slowly, rubbing at his eyes. His hair is messy and sticking up on one side, and at the moment he reminds him very much of a lost puppy. The sky outside is a brilliant blue, a shade that matches Niall’s eyes almost exactly. Not that Harry is staring or anything. 

“Oh, right. The bottle tree place.” 

“Bottle tree ranch,” Harry corrects softly. He hates treating Niall like some fragile piece of glass, like one wrong word will make him shatter. And he knows Niall doesn’t like feeling pitied, but right now it’s all he can do. Harry pauses for a moment, staring. Niall’s eyes catch the light in the most perfect way, and if things weren’t so tense right now he would take out his camera and capture it forever. 

Niall is the first to look away, the faint red on his cheeks only highlighted by the sunshine that shafts through the car window. “Let’s go, then,” He mutters, pushing the car door open and hopping out without bothering to check if Harry’s following suit. 

Harry climbs out, grabbing his camera bag and walking a few paces behind Niall. 

The occasional car rushes past, the wind tugging persistently at Harry’s hair. The sky is still a brilliant blue and the sun is beating down on them, sweat trickling down his back. It’s three in the afternoon, and Harry really wishes they’d timed this better. They won’t be able to last too long in this heat. 

They get to the entrance anyways, and it’s hardly silent; the heavy sound of windchimes and creaking metal fills his ears. There’s nobody out here but them, and Harry’s frankly okay with that. The gate swings open with a gentle squeak, and although they could see the array from the roadside, seeing it this close is much different. 

There’s rows upon rows of metal poles with arms sticking out, and on the arms hang hundreds and hundreds of colorful glass bottles. Harry stops in his tracks, turning in a full circle. Dusty glass everywhere- beer bottles, mostly, antiques, wind chimes dangling from the sparse trees, the occasional license plate welded to the top of a pole. Brown bottles and clear bottles and blue and green ones. It feels weird, in a way, to have so much history packed into one tight space. 

He glances over at Niall, who looks just as enraptured by the place as he is. Harry tugs the camera out of his bag while Niall walks ahead of him through the rows. And Niall doesn’t know it, but Harry takes more pictures of him than he does of the bottles. 

He stops at a particular one, which has exclusively blue bottles on it, moving around it to find the best angle. A garden rake is perched on top of another, and then there’s a dead end sign propped up against the fence, and when he looks at Niall, who’s paused to touch one of the signs wonderingly, eyes wide- he’s really glad they came here. 

“Niall,” He calls, and the boy turns to look at him. “Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” He replies, a smile already beginning to brighten his face. 

“Kanga.”

“Kanga who?” 

“Actually, it’s kangaroo.” Harry finishes, lifting his camera- and he captures Niall with a smile too big for his face, the one that’s brighter than the desert sun and makes his eyes go all crinkly. 

But underlying all the excitement he feels being here, there’s still the nagging thought- the thought that reminds him what Niall is going through. He remembers how he felt, when he first realized he liked boys. He remembers keeping it a secret until just a few years ago, scared out of his wits that his parents would kick him out. 

And he can tell Niall is thinking it right now. The air is still thick with tension, and Niall seems much quieter than ever before, even after Harry’s lame attempt at a joke, still far from his usual bubbly self. 

“They don’t have to know,” He blurts suddenly, the words falling off his lips without much thought. 

Niall frowns, giving him a strange look. “Who?” 

“Your parents,” He says, his voice nearly lost in the wind. “You don’t owe them shit. You don’t have to tell them anything if you don’t want to.” 

Niall just stares at him. He feels like he’s being scrutinized, like he can see right through him. Can see his deepest thoughts and his wants and his needs, but it’s not uncomfortable. He knows all that anyways. 

“Harry?” Niall says slowly, blinking. 

“Yeah?” 

“Kiss me.” 

Harry blinks in surprise. “What?” 

Niall walks up to him, hands shoved in his pockets. “I said, kiss me.” 

“Niall, are you sure-”

“I’ve literally never been more sure of anything in my life,” He says slowly, tilting his head to the side. “Now shut up and kiss me.” 

Harry can’t really argue with that, so he leans forward again, hooking his fingers through Niall’s belt loops to tug him closer, and he kisses him hard. And _shit_ , this is all he ever wanted, all he ever wanted and imagined and dreamed of. Niall’s lips feel like velvet against his, warm and feverish. Imaginary fireworks are going off in his head, and if there was a sound to describe what kissing Niall is like, it would be a massive choir of angels singing. It’s what he feels like, anyways. Like he’s in heaven. Niall’s hands are everywhere, moving down his back and stopping at his hips, a thumb resting underneath the hem of his shirt just to feel his skin. 

They stand there, sweating in the afternoon sun and kissing like there’s no tomorrow for a few minutes before Harry pulls away, breathless. Niall’s hands are still cupping his cheek, and he moves to pull them away but Harry stops him- taking them in his own hands and pressing a light kiss to his knuckles. Niall stands there and watches him, cheeks red. 

“Niall,” Harry says suddenly, heart ramming against his ribcage. Niall hums in response, still out of breath as he reaches up and traces the line of Harry’s jaw with a thumb. “I’m pretty sure you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” 

If Niall wasn’t blushing before, he’s definitely blushing now. “Shut up, Harry,” He mutters, pushing at his chest. 

“But it’s true,” Harry insists, laughter bubbling in his chest as he watches Niall grin and shy away. 

“It’s not.”

“Is too!” 

“Is not.”

“Just shut up and take the compliment already,” Harry rolls his eyes, smirking, and Niall just laughs again. 

Harry’s smile fades away though, the bright look in his eyes replaced with an uncharacteristic pensiveness. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.” He blurts, and Niall’s gaze snaps to his, surprised. 

“It’s too early for you to be sure.”

“Three years isn’t early.”

Niall blinks, but he doesn’t say anything, just leans up and kisses him again- gentler this time, with less heat and more meaning behind it. And Harry knows what he means, so he brings his hands up to Niall’s face, pushing closer, kissing his lips again and again. To make up for lost time, he tells himself. All the time he wasted skirting around his feelings and all the time Niall lost thinking he was broken for the way he felt. 

And if it works out Harry’s way, he’ll have the rest of his life to show this man how much he loves him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
